


third time's the charm

by Gerec



Category: Logan - Fandom, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Ficlets, Logan AU, M/M, Missing Scene, Post XMA, Telepathic Bond, XMA AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>XMA ficlets and missing scenes</p><p>1. The students react to the Professor's hair loss. Jean's POV.<br/>2. The team makes their way from Cairo to Westchester. Jean's POV.<br/>3. Magneto comes to see the Professor while he's still unconscious. Jean's POV.<br/>4. Erik is Charles' anchor while he sleeps. Erik's POV.<br/>5. Charles is taken from the School to Cairo. Erik's POV.<br/>6. Erik and Magda talk about bringing Nina to meet Charles. Erik's POV.<br/>7. Erik meditates every day in the garden. Charles' POV.<br/>8. <b>*NEW*</b> XMA/Logan AU - Erik, Magda and Nina hitch a ride with Logan and Laura to Xavier's School for the Gifted. Magda's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Professor SeX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://gerec.tumblr.com/post/145230376076/omg-pls-i-am-110-here-for-fics-about-the) on tumblr, about the students all having crushes on their gorgeous Professor :D

At first, when they step off the plane onto the grounds of the devastated School, the students are all just  _so relieved_  to see the Professor back, alive and seemingly in one piece. Some of them - mostly the younger kids but a few Jean’s own age - burst into tears, from happiness and from lingering fear, and the comforting, if tired smile on their headmaster’s face is something they all cling to, to ease their disbelief and their pain. 

By the time the new arrivals have all been fed (the teachers and some of the worried parents have arranged for a temporary tent village on the grounds, feeding and housing the kids until the Professor’s return) and changed into clothes more comfortable than their flight suits, the thoughts that Jean pick up from the others starts to change. Now that the Professor is back and the crisis averted, fear is slowing morphing into curiosity - about the enemy that came and stole him away, about the new mutants that have come back with them (especially Magneto, and the Prof. did have to make a speech about  _that_ , assuring the teachers, parents and students of his role saving the world) and what’s going to happen to them all, with the School completely destroyed.

But mostly, they want to know what happened to the Professor’s  _hair_.

Because it’s sort of a well-known fact, a rite of passage if you will, for all of the female students (and a lot more of the boys than they’d ever admit) to develop a crush on Professor X when they first arrive at the School. Some of crushes go away fairly quickly, others last for weeks and months, and some are rather embarrassing for their longevity, of which Jean herself can relate.

Though now, after their mind link and what happened with Apocalypse, her ‘crush’ has morphed into something much deeper, more familial, a bond that can only be experienced and understood by two telepaths of their immense power.

But it doesn’t mean that she can’t still relate, at the hushed whispers and curious thoughts rippling through the entire student body. Already there are laments over the loss of that gorgeous, luscious hair, one of the things the girls loved the most about the Prof. along with that posh accent and those blue blue eyes. 

And by the time the School has been rebuilt, and the students are back in their dorms and classes have resumed in force, the feelings of awe and curiosity have morphed into rather heated discussions, all over the hotness - or not - of their newly bald headmaster.

The overall consensus of course, is that he’s as hot as ever.

But there  _are_ arguments to his degree of hotness, and whether the Prof is sexier with hair or without (there’s a surprisingly large number of students who have developed a thing for his bald head,  _especially_ after they find out how it happened). That he’s tending lately to dress in sharper, more formal suits just adds to his air of power and authority, and apparently it’s giving the older students even more fuel for the fire, flooding Jean with images and feelings that are rather more X-rated than she’d care to know.

One time, her own curiosity gets the better of her, and she asks the Professor if it bothers him to know what the students are thinking, if their crushes make him uncomfortable. Instead of answering the question directly, he just smiles at her and winks.

“We’ve been at the end of the world, Jean. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 


	2. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene - After the battle, they make their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been completely overwhelmed by my Charles + Jean feels and this is an attempt to put them down in ficlet form. This was not written in any way to diminish the enormity of Jean's power; rather, it's an acknowledgement of Charles' role fighting Apocalypse and how I saw his connection to Jean.
> 
> Also, Cherik feels :D

The Professor sleeps for most of the flight home.

Their transport is a cargo plane that Magneto conjures seemingly from thin air, though Jean knows that it was ‘procured’ at the nearby Cairo airport, one of the few not completely decimated by his powers. It’s not as fast as the plane they stole from Stryker, and nowhere nearly as comfortable, but it gets the job done, which is to get them out of the devastation and back to Westchester as quickly as possible. They all follow Mystique’s orders as she directs them onto the plane, stumbling up the ramp and collapsing into tired heaps on the floor or into the few chairs in the cabin, with Mr. McCoy and Agent McTaggert taking their places in the cockpit, prepping for takeoff.

Magneto is the last to board the plane, carrying the Professor in his arms.

Someone – probably Mr. McCoy - has laid some old cushions on the floor, appropriated from the apartment where they made their final stand against Apocalypse. He lays the Professor down with a gentleness only Jean and Mystique understand, while the others stare warily at the man who just hours ago had been intent on tearing the world apart.

 _Terrorist. Mad man. Dangerous_ are the thoughts that float through their heads, and even Mystique watches him out of the corner of her eye, unsure of what to expect. But Jean…well, Jean finds herself looking with very different eyes – through the Professor’s eyes – and sees someone drowning, clinging just barely to the lifeline that connects him to the man at his feet.

Magneto strips out of his bulky armor, floating the pieces onto the cabin floor and then drops down to sit beside the Professor. They share a few words, unspoken, before Charles can’t keep his eyes open any longer and drifts off into an exhausted, uneasy sleep. Jean watches them for a long time, as the plane takes off and they start making their way to New York, and not once does she see Magneto move from his spot, his gaze intent on the Professor’s face, drinking him in.

“Hey,” Mystique says, her voice softer than it’s ever been as she drops down next to Jean on the cabin floor. She has spent the last couple of hours making the rounds, checking on the others and speaking with them in hushed voices. And they all seem to be a little calmer, a little lighter when she’s finished, even Peter who keeps glancing over at the Dad he longs to know, and the girl Storm – Ororo – who alternates between guilt for following Apocalypse, and uncertainty about what lies ahead.

“How is he?” she asks Jean, her eyes flitting between her brother and Magneto a few feet away. She wants to go over there, and hold the Professor’s hand, and tell him things she hasn’t been able to say in over twenty years.

“He’s…” and Jean stops, trying to put into words all that the Professor has gone through fighting against Apocalypse’s hold. If it had been anyone else, Jean is sure that he’d be dead; even now, the toll that it’s taken on Charles has created an enormous, gaping wound in his psyche that will take a long time to heal. “He’s strong. He’s going to make it.”

“That’s good.”

There’s more behind the words, feelings and emotions that Jean hears but doesn’t absorb, her focus on the connection that ties her to Charles. She holds him in place as he drifts in the dark, an anchor in the ocean of voices that clamor to lead him astray.

“Thank you,” Mystique continues, after a few moments of quiet, shaking Jean from her reverie. “You saved Charles; all of us. If it wasn’t for you, we would have all been lost.”

Five hours ago, those words of praise and encouragement would have meant everything to Jean, coming from her hero, someone she’s admired for as long as she can remember. But now, _everything_ has changed, her most of all, and the words though appreciated, don’t quite hold the same meaning.

Jean shakes her head. “I didn’t…I was so _afraid_. Afraid of my powers, of what I could do. I couldn’t access them, couldn’t control them. Not until the Professor… He was the one who saved us all.”

She can tell by the way Mystique’s brow furrows that she doesn’t understand, and Jean doesn’t know how to explain it to a non-telepath. The immense power that it had taken to resist Apocalypse’s attempted takeover, how little of his strength the Professor had left, when Kurt brought him out of the pyramid. How he fought and _kept fighting_ , to distract Apocalypse and buy them all more time. How he threw his mind open to Jean wholly and completely, and trusted her, believed in her, and gave her the last of his power to unleash her own.

“He’s very good at it, saving people,” Magneto says, the only words he’s spoken to anyone but Charles since the end of the battle. _If you let him. And even when you don’t._

 _Yes,_ Jean answers. _Yes._


	3. Show Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magneto comes to see the Professor.

Magneto comes to see the Professor, after the others have finally gone to bed.

Jean hasn’t seen him since they got off the plane hours ago, pulling pieces of metal from the wreckage of the School to fashion a crude chair for the Professor. Charles had insisted on it, against Mr. McCoy’s wishes, to not be carried out of the plane on a stretcher and further alarm the gathering of students, parents and teachers camped out on the lawn. He wanted to ease their minds and sooth their spirits, and spent the first hour doing exactly that, speaking quietly to every single one of them, young and old.

And then he’d gone into one of the large tents, out of sight, and collapsed face down onto a makeshift bed.

They go to see him, Mystique and Mr. McCoy, the former holding Charles’ hand while the latter dresses his wounds. He isn’t awake for any of it, and stays that way no matter who comes to sit with him, or what they say.

Jean tells them that he’s tired from his battle with Apocalypse, and that he needs to rest. That he’ll wake when his mind has had a chance to heal; that he’ll be okay.

She doesn’t tell them how close he came to dying in Cairo, and how precarious it still is for the Professor, how easy it would be to lose him to the vast ocean of minds as he drifts. She doesn’t tell them because there’s nothing the others can do to help him; it’s up to Charles to find his own way back.

Though he does have Jean there to guide him.

She can feel him through their connection, a live wire that ties them together, a door flung open that has yet to be closed. The Professor had given her everything during the battle – opened his mind to her, and lent her his power – and Jean had embraced that link in return, taking comfort in his words and conviction from his strength.

Jean has never known anyone as intimately, as completely, as she now knows Charles Xavier.

Magneto ducks inside the tent, and crouches down next to the Professor, his eyes intent on the Professor’s face, taking in the stitches on his temple and the furrow in his brow. He doesn’t notice Jean until he’s moved to settle more comfortably beside the cot, and then he stills immediately, as though he expects her to flee – or scream – if he so much as moves a muscle.

“It helps, when I’m close,” she explains, answering his unspoken query, why Jean is sitting in the dark, on an air mattress next to Charles’ bed. “Our connection keeps him tethered, like a rope, tied to his boat in the storm.”

“I should go,” he says, voice rough, like he hasn’t spoken in years, and is just relearning how to form words and sentences. He looks at her then, eyes steady, pinning her in place, and oh how intimidating he would be to Jean if she didn’t _know_ , if she hadn’t _lived_ all of Charles’ thoughts and memories.

“No,” Jean answers, “you should stay. The Professor would want you to stay.”

Magneto snorts, which is…unexpected, since he’s barely spoken three sentences to anyone, or shown even the slightest hint of emotion since they got off the plane. “He would, would he? And I suppose you know this because you’re a telepath? Are you all so damned arrogant, or is it just because you’re Charles’ student?”  

She shrugs. “I know, because I know the Professor. I know how much you mean to him--”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“—and I know you don’t want to leave. That you’re worried about him, and wondering why he hasn’t woken up.”

Magneto eyes her warily, and snaps, “Stay out of my head.”

Jean sighs, and shifts until she’s sitting cross-legged on the mattress, facing Magneto on the other side of the Professor. “I can’t.”

He stares at her, but doesn’t invite her to continue, which only makes Jean want to blurt everything out to him, to try and explain.

“It’s not like that, for a telepath,” she starts, “we‘re always hearing things, all around us. We don’t need to actively seek it out to hear voices and feelings. It’s actually the opposite; we have to learn to block it out, and that requires control, which I haven’t been very good at, especially compared to Charles.”

“But your power,” he says, “I saw what you did in Cairo.”

She shakes her head. “That wasn’t about control. That was about unleashing what I had inside of me. About learning to embrace it, and not to be afraid. But the Prof., his power is different from mine. He can remake the world if he wanted. I can only destroy it.”

It surprises her, after she’s said the words out loud, that the idea doesn’t frighten her as much as it should. She’s amazed at how much has changed – how much _she’s_ changed - her own mind still reeling from everything that’s happened in the past forty-eight hours.

Magneto takes her ensuing silence in stride, his gaze wandering back to the Professor, his eyes following the contours of that ageless face.  A memory, worn and well loved, of long fingers brushing against a bare cheek comes to Jean unbidden, something soft and intimate from Erik mirrored in Charles’ mind. The guilt wells up in her, even if she can’t help but _know_ and _understand_ ; she wants to give them time alone, to grieve, to love, and to reconnect in private.

“I can go,” she offers, and it takes a few moments before Magneto tears his eyes away from the Professor to look at her, his face purposefully blank. “If you want, I can show you how to be his link instead. His mind will hold on to yours instead of mine, to keep him here.”

“Yes,” Magneto says, without a moment’s hesitation. “Show me.”

\-----

In the morning, Jean finds him curled around Charles on the narrow cot, their hands clasped together against the Professor’s chest.


	4. Hold On To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Scene: Erik is Charles' anchor while he sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Erik taking over for Jean from the previous chapter, linking his mind with Charles' to provide him with an anchor while he recuperates in his sleep.

Erik is standing on the ship’s top deck, looking out into the empty night, a starless sky over the deep, dark waves.

_Where is he?_

_He’s here,_ she says, _he’s everywhere._

 _What do I have to do?_ he asks.

_Nothing._

_Nothing?_

There’s no answer.

He dives in.

\-----

He’s lying on a hospital bed, too bright lights shining in his eyes as a large shadow moves to his left.

_Where am I?_

_You’re safe. It’s okay,_ the voice says, Hank’s voice, and then Hank’s face appears, anxious and full of grief.

_What’s happened? Where—_

_Everyone’s okay. Moira and Alex and Sean; we’re all fine._

_Raven?_ he manages, in a voice not his own. _Erik?_

Hank’s expression changes, the pain warring with anger he can’t quite hide. _They’re gone._

\-----

 _Would you date me?_ Raven asks. She’s wearing a white fluffy bathrobe, a toothbrush in her hand.

 _What?_ he replies, a crinkle in his brow as he drops his pen.

 _Like this_ , she continues, waving her hand to indicate her whole body. _Blue?_

He gets out of the chair and approaches her, putting his arms on her shoulders, gripping them gently.

_Of course I would, darling. You’re beautiful; I’ve always thought so, since the day we met. But…you’re my sister, Raven, and it is a bit strange to think of you that way._

Raven beams, and throws her arms around him, pulling him into a lingering hug. _I know that, don’t be an idiot._

A voice, quiet and sad, next to his ear whispers, _It didn’t happen that way._

_No?_

_No._

\-----

_I wish you could have seen this place._

He rolls along the corridors, and everyone stops to wave and smile, the students milling around with books in their arms and bags slung over their shoulders.

The mansion – the _School_ – is full of life again, just as he’s always dreamed, a place for people just like _them_ ; a place to be safe, and to be loved.

A home, for his family.

\-----

He’s lying on another bed, lumpy and too narrow, his arm slung across Erik’s chest.

 _You’re so beautiful, and you don’t_ know _,_ he thinks, taking in the curve of Erik’s jaw, so much gentler in his sleep; the slight rise and fall of his chest to the rattling hum of an air conditioner, on a late June night.

_There’s so much good in you._

_I never want this to end._

_You’re going to break my heart,_ he thinks _, but I love you anyway._

\-----

It’s dark, and the space is cramped, and it takes a few moments to remember he’s hiding in the back of a closet, under a pile of clothes.

Beyond the thick wooden doors he can hear someone shouting his name, a child’s voice, dripping with hate and disdain.

_Come out you freak. I know you’re in there._

_Go away,_ he thinks, his throat closing tight with panic, fear making his fingers tremble against his temple. _Go away, go away, go away!_ And then- _-_

 _Leave me alone,_ he yells - at the boy, at the voices in his head, at the god seeping into his soul…

_Leave me alone--_

\-----

_I don’t want to be alone._

\-----

There are thousands of them amongst millions, bright pinpoints of light as he lets his consciousness spread wider and wider into the world through Cerebro, looking for mutants – for _one_ mutant – to call him home.

There’s so much hurt, and anger, and hopeless, helpless grief, and he’s living it again (always, over and over) until he can barely breathe through the soul crushing pain--

But his words are useless, as they’ve always been and always will be, and Erik doesn’t hear him, doesn’t know how he could possibly _understand_ —

He doesn’t even think Erik realizes, that he hates Charles Xavier, almost as much as he loves him.

And then it stops being important, because something powerful and terrible is taking him over, and pushing him down, and his mouth is screaming but he can’t stop it, he can’t--

\-----

The tendrils wrap around him, strong and immovable, squeezing the air out of his lungs, pushing him down, down, down…

He fights, and snarls, and _screams_

_Get out! Get out, get out, get out, get out!_

Erik is screaming.

He doesn’t know for how long.

He can’t stop it.

He can’t _stop--_

\-----

_Erik._

It’s Charles’ voice, soft and warm, jolting him back into his own body.

He can’t see more than a few feet ahead of him in the murky dark, floating as he is under water, still and deep.

 _Charles?_ he calls, reaching out with his senses. _Charles!_

 _It’s so quiet here, Erik,_ the voice – Charles’ voice – answers, _I like it here. I feel…whole. Safe._

 _You_ are _safe,_ Erik says, _I’m here. I’m going to keep you safe._

_No, you don’t belong here. You should go._

He sees Charles then, floating in front of him and reaches to grab his arm, pulling him close. Charles’ eyes are closed, the expression on his face serene, and Erik’s heart aches because he can’t remember the last time he saw Charles like _this,_ so happy and at peace and maybe he _should_ leave, because what has he ever done but hurt him? He’s better off without Erik, they’re _all_ better off without Erik, he has nothing to offer, nothing left to give--

 _No!_ he shouts, because Erik is so _tired_ , and so full to the brim with pain that he can’t bear to take yet _more_ loss, not like this, and not _Charles._ _No,_ because he’s selfish and weak, and he needs Charles Xavier more than ever. Needs him like air. Like breathing.

 _Hold on to me,_ Erik says, wrapping his arms tight around Charles’ chest, dragging him up, up, up, towards the surface, to the tiny glittering light far above their heads. _I’ve got you now, and_ _I'm never letting go._


	5. The Weight I Carry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Scene: Takes place immediately after Charles is taken from the School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt by Turtletotem:
> 
> Erik carrying unconscious Charles in the desert -- the pillow jacket, etc.

Cool metal gives way to hot stone as they step through the portal, the blast of heat intense and overwhelming as they find themselves thrust suddenly onto a rocky hilltop overlooking a thriving metropolis. Cairo, Erik thinks as he sets the wheelchair down, on a bit of level ground so as not to jostle a still unconscious Charles. He can see the great pyramids in the distance, beyond the teeming mass of concrete and steel; can see the others moving closer to the edge to take in the view, listening dutifully to En Sabah Nur as he waxes poetically about the great civilization he used to rule.

Erik has no idea why they’re here of all places.  
  
He doesn’t care.

Charles is listing dangerously to one side, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he remains slumped over in his wheelchair.  He looks uncomfortable – _vulnerable_ – so unlike the strong, confident man that’s been smiling at Erik from the occasional cover of a science journal or a newspaper clipping these past ten years.  And nothing like the man he last saw in D.C., eyes full of disappointment and recrimination as he floated away, leaving Charles alone to deal with the consequences of Erik’s aborted plans.

And now Charles is here once again because of _Erik_ , because he reached out to comfort him - to try and _save_ him – as futile a notion now as it has been since the day they met. He wonders what Charles will lose this time, because he can’t stop _caring_ ; wonders why he still bothers with a man who leaves nothing but death and destruction in his wake.

“Erik, bring him here.”

En Sabah Nur’s voice manages to break through the haze though he doesn’t answer; instead he lifts Charles gently from the chair and cradles him, carrying him over to a patch of dirt relatively worn and smooth. For a moment – a second and an eternity – the unmoving weight in his arms is _Magda_ , and he is burying her again in a shallow grave, and his breath catches and he can’t _breathe_ , and he has to do it _again_ , see her body lying next to his daughter’s– 

Thankfully, he manages to place Charles on the ground without dropping him, holding him carefully as he wrestles the jacket off his shoulders. He folds the material absently and tucks it under Charles’ head as a makeshift pillow, and brushes a lock of hair from his face as En Sabah Nur crouches beside him.

“What will you say?” Erik murmurs, his eyes never leaving Charles’ face. “What makes you think he’ll join you?”

“I will show him a future of possibilities, one where we can all live together in harmony. A future where the strong will shepherd the weak.”

Erik scoffs. “That won’t work. He’ll fight you. With everything he has.”

“You must trust me,” En Sabah Nur replies, patting Erik on the arm reassuringly. Condescendingly. “Charles is integral to my plans, and I _will_ find a way to convince him. He will stay, and you will have him by your side again.”

Erik does not bother to correct him, ignoring the twinge of longing in his gut as he pushes himself up and stalks away, putting much needed distance between himself and the others. He does not tell En Sabah Nur that he will fail, that Charles will never agree to help him destroy the world; that Charles is good, and kind, with a heart of gold and a will of steel—

No, Erik just watches…and waits.


	6. Someday Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Scene: Erik and Magda talk about bringing Nina to meet Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for this prompt from Kernezelda:
> 
> ...how about Erik, after tucking Nina in, gets ready for bed and pulls out a little box from underneath. He’s listening to Magda humming as she’s preparing for bed, and he smiles a little as he unfolds and re-reads an unsent letter to Charles, telling him about the happiness he’s found in peace.

_~~Dear Charles~~ _

_~~My friend~~ _

_Did you know that I found Nina in the garden today, surrounded by a menagerie of woodland animals like a princess in a fairy tale? She turned and smiled when I called her name, and I swear it was like looking into the sun. ~~I am~~  _

_~~I have~~ _

_I told you this before, that Nina has had an affinity with animals since she first started learning to walk. In the last year though we have noticed that her bond with the wild creatures on our property have strengthened, and she says that she can communicate thoughts and feelings with them, though she doesn’t understand how. Magda and I have spoken about this at length, and we both agree that she needs support and guidance, from someone who can teach her how to best use and control her powers. ~~There is no one I trust~~   ~~I’m asking you to help~~_

_It is our intention to bring her to your School, someday soon, so that you can meet Nina and Magda in person. I know that it has been a long time, my friend, and I can only hope that you will welcome us into your home. You have always been so certain that there was more to me…that I could have a life of happiness and peace…_

_~~I want to show you~~ _

_You were right._

_Yours,_

_E_

——-

He folds the letter and tucks it back into the wooden box, sending Magda a soft smile as she exits the bathroom brushing her long dark hair. She stops humming when she sees the box on his lap, arching an elegant eyebrow as she sets the brush on the nightstand and sits down next to him on the bed.

“Are you ever going to send any of the letters you write to him?” she teases, leaning against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. “You said he could read minds but I didn’t know he could read un-mailed letters too? And from the other side of the Atlantic!”

Erik huffs, and presses a kiss on her forehead. “You’re a comedian. I had no idea.”

She turns and kisses him affectionately, grinning against his cheek. “Someone has to have a sense of humor around here.”

“Indeed.”

Magda laughs – and oh how he loves it when she laughs – digging through the open box until she finds the torn page. She unfolds it carefully and smooths out the crease, tracing the lines with her finger tips, Charles’ handsome face gazing up at them from the cover of the magazine.

“It’s been years, Erik. I’m sure he wants to see you.”

He doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t want to argue; he can hardly expect her to be impartial about his relationship with Charles, even knowing their complicated history. And he doesn’t want to fuel his own desire to mend what’s been broken, unsure of Charles’ feelings about Erik after all this time.

“You are hopelessly optimistic,” he says. A deflection, one that Magda sees through immediately.

“And you’re overly dramatic.”

She sighs, but doesn’t push, sinking into Erik’s side as she continues to stare at the wrinkled picture in her hand. There were things he could never tell her, the details of his time in the camps and the torture he suffered at Schmidt’s hands; pain that no longer sits just beneath the surface, roiling under his skin. But Charles…well, he’s long decided to trust Magda with his past, and his past _is_ Charles, so intricately tied to the fabric of Erik’s existence.

A man responsible for the life, the _family_ , Erik never thought he could have.

“We should go soon,” Magda says, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Nina’s powers are getting stronger every day.”

“I know,” he replies, “and we will. What happened in D.C….there’s increased coverage on the news right now. When it dies down, then we can go.”

Magda hums in agreement, before gently folding the cover and placing it back in the box. She moves to slip under the blankets as Erik tucks the box back under the bed, and wraps her arm across his chest as they settle against the pillows.

“Do you think he’ll like me?” she asks, no longer teasing as she cuddles close.

Erik snorts. “Charles likes everyone.” He nudges her forehead with his nose, which earns him a half-hearted slap on his chest. “Why does it matter if he likes you?”

She sighs again, like the answer should be very obvious and Erik is being deliberately obtuse. “He’s important to you, so he’s important to me. And you married _me_ , and we have Nina, and maybe he’ll resent me and I don’t–”

“Magda,” he interrupts, before she gets herself all wound up. “Charles is…he has a generous heart. He’ll love you, and Nina, I promise.” He pauses. “I’m happy, and Charles, he…he’s always wanted that for me.”

“He sounds lovely,” she replies, and he can hear the smile in her voice as she squeezes his arm. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Erik smiles. “Me too.”


	7. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik meditates in the garden everyday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this for a first sentence meme on tumblr, and liked it enough to include here as a missing scene :D

Erik was meditating in the front garden again, and the children were whispering about it.

It made sense of course that the children would be so curious, given everything they’d heard over the years about the mutant terrorist Magneto. And though they hadn’t been told his part in their beloved headmaster’s abduction, they did hear enough about the events in Cairo (tales told by a wide eyed Kurt to a curious Jubilee) that they knew he was dangerous at worst and unpredictable at best.

It made them wonder keenly about this man who had once been good friends with their Professor, but had sided with the mad mutant who wanted to destroy the world. Debated why he ultimately switched allegiances and fought on the Professor’s side, and even came back to help them rebuild the School. Months of seeing the man on the grounds, going over the new Cerebro’s plans with Mr. McCoy, or playing chess with the Professor and yet they still knew next to nothing about him, except that he had a very powerful mutation.

And that he was very, very sad.

They had no idea _why_ Erik meditated every day in the garden, listening to the birds and feeling the sun on his skin; could never understand why he needed to feel close to nature, and to the tiny creatures that lived on the grounds.

But Charles _did_ know, and he made sure to keep an eye on the other inhabitants each day, to ensure that Erik had his time, and his space, to be alone and undisturbed.

To try and find a little peace.

 _Spit spot, children, lunch is over. T_ _ime to go to class,_  Charles sent, and smiled as the students hurried to comply. 


	8. Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XMA/Logan AU - Erik, Magda and Nina hitch a ride with Logan and Laura to Xavier's School for the Gifted
> 
> Pairings: Erik/Magda, Charles/Logan, past Charles/Erik  
> Warnings: N/A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the MOST amazing idea by unforgotten (awfullythick on tumblr); this is a canon divergent mash up of 'both XMA' and 'Logan', where Erik's family survives and Laura is 'born' many decades early. The title of this chapter is essentially my favorite tag used in The Hobbit fandom lol, because yes, EVERYONE LIVES/NOBODY DIES it's all good people!!!
> 
> And here's the post that inspired this one-shot:
> 
> _Wanted: Canon-divergent XMA/Logan fic where Logan isn’t being experimented on by Stryker in the 1980s because he’s working for Charles instead, and went to rescue Laura at Charles’ say-so. (Let’s say whats-his-face got Logan’s DNA after some X-Men mission at some point somewhere.) Somewhere in Texas, they meet this other family, comprised of a tall, suspicious guy in some sort of ridic hat who says he knows Logan, plus his wife and his kid, who has a flock of seagulls following her everywhere even though she doesn’t actually appear to be feeding them._
> 
> _When they find out they’re all headed to the same place, they end up traveling together. Nina and Laura become fast friends. By the time they get to Westchester, Laura’s learned a little Polish, Nina’s picked up a mixture of Spanish and English, and Erik and Logan hate each other even more than they did before. (The thing Erik hates the most is that Magda thinks Logan is “sweet” and that they get along like a house on fire. At one point, when Erik’s being particularly annoying and rant-y and the girls are on a sugar high, Magda rides with Logan and they have the kids ride with Erik.)_

Magda wasn’t sure what surprised her more; that the ‘house’ where Charles Xavier lived turned out to be a  _castle,_  straight out of one of Nina’s fairy-tales —

– or exactly how strange – and strained – the various reunions would be, as the five of them pulled up to the circular driveway and found their host already waiting outside his own front door.

“Here we are,” Logan said, as he pulled the station wagon to a stop, and waved at Mr. Xavier and another man –  _Hank McCoy_ , Magda guessed, based on his earlier description of the School’s inhabitants – “home sweet home.”

Nina by now was practically bouncing in the backseat, and she grabbed Laura’s hand excitedly as she pressed her nose against the car window. “Are we  _finally_  here? Can we get out of the car, Mama? I need to use the washroom!”

She laughed, and turned around just in time to see Erik catch their daughter gently by the shoulder. “Nina, remember that we’re guests here and we need to mind our manners. Let’s say hello to Mr. Xavier first, and then we can all go inside.”

Logan snorted as he took the keys out of ignition and flung open his door. “Come on then, everybody out. Don’t want to keep ol’ Chuck waiting. He’s so excited, he’s giving me a headache.”

It was barely noticeable, just a slight stiffening of Erik’s shoulders, but Magda had seen it every time Logan referred to Xavier by his nickname over the past couple of days. He’d been quieter too, and more solemn the closer they drew to Westchester; for all his assurances to the contrary, she knew that Erik doubted the welcome they’d receive from his estranged friend. But they’d also agreed all those weeks ago that Nina needed training, and Erik had insisted that Charles wouldn’t turn her and Magda away, no matter how he felt about Erik himself.

The girls scrambled out of the car after Logan, and Magda reached into the backseat to give Erik’s hand a quick squeeze. “It’ll be fine. You told me yourself – he’s a good man. A forgiving,  _kind_  man. It was a long time ago, Erik. There’s no reason to expect the worst before it even happens.”

He sighed, but pulled her closer to press a kiss to her forehead. “I expect the worst, because that’s what  _always_ happens.”

She shook her head but said no more, and he followed her out of the car without another word. They caught up to the others just in time to hear Nina introduce herself to Charles and Hank, along with her newly acquired best friend.

“—and we met them when our car broke down in Texas, and they offered us a ride when Mama told them where we were going! And Laura doesn’t talk, but she’s really nice…oh and she bought you a present! It’s really great; I helped pick it out!”

Magda watched as Charles’ smile widened even more, and his eyes softened as Laura stepped closer to his wheelchair and slipped something into his hands. It was a keychain of a little horse that the girls had seen at one of their gas station stops, and Laura had instantly been fascinated, pocketing it without a second thought.

Nina, bless her, had explained gently that they had to pay for it first, because stealing was bad, and that she was sure Papa would buy it if they asked him nicely.

And of course Erik had listened carefully and then smiled wryly at the girls, and paid the cashier for the keychain along with a pretty postcard of an eagle for Nina.

“Thank you, this is wonderful,” Charles said, and he extended his hand carefully to Laura, who surprisingly, didn’t hesitate to link his fingers with her own. “I am so happy to finally meet you in person. We have so much to discuss, and there’s so much I want to show you. Both of you,” he added, as he smiled kindly at Nina too, who seemed enraptured by his undeniably charismatic presence. “We’ll give you a tour once you’ve settled in your rooms, and I’ve had a chance to catch up with your parents.”

He looked up then, and met Magda’s eyes, and oh they were incredibly arresting – a shade of blue that made her think of the mid-summer sky. She could understand Erik’s attraction immediately, as they shared a quick smile, and then when he turned to acknowledge her husband…

….the tension in the air was palpable, as they stared wordlessly at one another for long moments, and Magda would have turned around and packed them all back into the car if she didn’t  _know_ her Erik, and trust in their love with all her heart. She knew there were words to be had and amends to be made, but now was not the time for it, on the doorstep and in front of the children, and hoped that she wouldn’t need to step in and interrupt the quietly loaded exchange.

Luckily, it was Logan who stepped in, reaching to grip Charles’ shoulder gently and drawing his gaze. Erik too, turned abruptly then to unload their bags from the trunk, while Logan shared quiet words with both Charles and Hank, the latter unable to entirely hide his discomfort with their presence. She saw Charles take Logan’s hand then, squeezing it lightly as they talked, and realized with a flash of clarity the likely nature of their relationship. And Erik’s seeming distrust of Logan – a fellow mutant, and someone he professed to have known and partnered with for a short time – suddenly made so much more sense.

“Mrs. Lehnsherr—“

“Magda, please,” she interrupted, and was rewarded once again by that dazzling smile. “I insist.”

“Magda, then, if you’ll call me Charles,” he agreed, and then winked at a fidgeting Nina, who she knew was practically bursting to see all the animals on the mansion’s grounds. “Please, follow me. And welcome, all of you, to Xavier’s School for the Gifted.”


End file.
